


Hounds AU: Jackie

by sarinoxious



Category: JSE, jacksepticeye, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom, jse egos - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Gen, Knives, Violence, anime rooftop fight, eye-trauma, hounds au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23910058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarinoxious/pseuds/sarinoxious
Summary: The friendly neighbourhood faces off against his greatest enemy yet - but things don't go to plans, for either of them.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for the Hounds AU by @cyanacity on Tumblr and myself! If you want to know more about it, check out the tag '#hounds au' on their blog, or join the discord server: https://discord.gg/rMaEZ8n

“No.”

The wind howls around them, tugging at their clothes and wheezing in their ears. Still, Anti’s voice cuts through the noise, loud and clear.

“That wasn’t our deal, hero.”

Jackie’s hands tighten around his batons, and he raises his chin, eyes defiant and determined. “That’s real unfortunate, Anti. Cause I’m not coming with you, and you can’t make me.”

The other man growls, the knife in his right hand catching the lights of the city below them as he spins it.

“And you can’t take back what you gave to me,” Jackie continues. “Thank you for that, by the way. It’s going to come in real handy when I kick your ass out of this city. Unless you want to spare me the trouble and leave?” With a chuckle, Jackie extends his one arm out to his side, baton pointing at the mountains that mark the city’s border.

“I suppose you’re right,” Anti snarls. But he doesn’t make a move to leave. In fact, he takes a step closer. And then another. “But there are other things I can take.”

And with that, he vanishes, only to reappear right beside Jackie, his knife slicing through the air, curving down to slash at his throat. Jackie brings his baton up, catching the knife right before it’s able to touch skin. For a fraction of a second, they’re frozen in place, their strength equally matched. Anti’s teeth are bared as he grunts, and in the reflection of the knife, Jackie is met with his own eyes.

_“We can be gods together, Jackie,” the glitch offers, honey dripping off his words, masking the poison that lingers just beneath the surface. “Just you and me, on top of the world.” His arms are thrown wide, gesturing to the city around them- no, **beneath** them._

The second passes, and Anti pulls his knife back before lunging in for another stab, at Jackie’s stomach this time. He deftly leaps out of the way, but misjudges the distance to the edge of the roof. One of his feet finds no solid ground to land on, and his heart shoots up to his throat as he falls-

Only to have his hand caught by Anti. Immediately, hundreds of thoughts surge through his head, none of them his own. _You should’ve said yes, you still can, you’ve earned your place, all that’s left is for you to take it-_ None of them are his own, they’re not his own, they’re not his- _Would you really choose a cramped apartment over a palace worthy of god? Worthy of you? These people don’t deserve you, Jackie. You deserve something better than them-_

Jackie’s eyes flicker up to meet Anti’s, bright and green and furious, but focussed, staring down at him as if he can change Jackie’s mind through willpower alone. Jackie keeps entirely still, the battlefield having shifted from a rooftop to their own minds. He doesn’t even try to gain some grip against the wall, to pull himself up without Anti’s help. The wind pulls at his hair as it cuts around the corner of the building, taking his shaky breaths away from him. 

But he doesn’t budge. Anti pushes and pulls at his mind, giving his all to shape Jackie’s mind to fit in the mold he had for him. His frustration grows, his powers slipping from refined to wild and untamed. “Fine,” he hisses, both in Jackie’s ears and mind. “You’ve made your choice.” Anti’s grip around Jackie’s wrist tightens, bones crunching as Jackie gasps, his eyes wide with fear. “Die a hero, then.”

And he lets go.

And Jackie falls.

Anti is towering over the edge, quickly decreasing in size as Jackie tumbles down. His back hits a fire-escape, and his vision is drawn to the ground below him instead, before he hits his head on another railing, white hot pain blinding out everything else.

His limp body is caught by a pile of trash bags, chasing away the white cat that was sitting in the darkened alley. Jackie groans, struggling to get back onto his feet. The entire world is spinning around him, faster and faster as the walls tilt until his forearms scathe over the rough brickwork, and his stumbling finally stops.

“Look at me, Jackie.”

Pretending not to hear him, Jackie steadies his breathing, leaning his forehead against the wall. 

“I said, l̸o̡ǫ͠k̶̛ ̸a̸t͏͟ ̧̨m̶e.”

A fist pounds on the wall besides Jackie’s head, and he finally looks up. Still heavily relying on the wall for support, he has no defence against Anti’s knife as it glints in the dim light of the alley.

And that’s the last thing he sees before he instinctively closes his eyes in the anticipation of the hit. The blade cuts cleanly over his eyes and the ground falls away from under his feet as his world explodes into darkness, warm blood running down his cheeks and hot pain burning in his eyes. The wall is gone, now, and he stumbles backwards, before tripping over… something.

He barely notices how he’s screaming, wailing, _crying_ , until Anti clutches his hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

“That’s what you get,” he hisses, his voice close to Jackie’s ear, too close, “for thinking you can double-cross m̡e̡̕.”

The fizzling air of Anti’s presence lessens as rain slowly starts to patter down on the pavement. Thinking himself safe, Jackie takes a deep breath, only to be met with surprise at a kick in his stomach. Gasping, he curls up, covering his head and face with his arms, entirely powerless and defenseless against the following volley of kicks to his back, his stomach, his head and his crotch. 

What seems like an eternity passes until Anti, content with a job well done, leaves Jackie broken, vulnerable, and alone. A small surge of electricity buzzes through the air around him, and then the glitch is gone. He slowly uncurls and tries to open his eyes, to look around, to see where he is and where he could go.

Nothing happens. 

He sees… nothing. 

Panic starts to pool into his heart as a feeling of pure and utter despair overwhelms him, his breath becoming more ragged with every heartbeat. He’s injured and alone, limited only to what he can touch and hear, the latter rapidly decreasing as the slight patter of the rain increases, until it’s steadily thrumming against his skin, thunder cracking in the distance. He struggles to sit up, arms shaking under the weight of his torso, but he has no other options, does he?

So he crawls, through the mud and through the trash, until his shoulder finds the wall again. A sob of relief leaves his lips as his perceivable world grows a little, and he allows himself to sag against it, finally starting to crumble as the pressure is taken off. 

He sits there for… a long time, probably. Another bolt of lightning struck down, closer now, but he couldn’t see the flash. The flow of blood streaming down his face was steady, showing no sign of slowing down. He holds his head backwards, letting the cool rain wash his face, and hopefully clear up the blood that’s preventing him from opening his eyes.

Nothing.

He is still losing blood, way too much blood. A cold fever runs along his skin, and he feels himself getting dizzier by the second. He knows he has to get help, and quick. Leaning heavily onto the wall, he lifts himself off the ground, his head protesting immediately as a headache crashes over him like a wave. He shakily waits for it to pass before he starts following the wall. He can only hope he was walking out of the alley, instead of further in. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, are you okay?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join the Hounds AU discord server! https://discord.gg/j3CPMRw

“Oh my god. Oh my god, are you okay?”

The sound of something clattering - trash bags being dropped? - and then hands are on his arms, behind his back, supporting him as he is led somewhere. The air is warmer, and the relentless rain stopped - inside.

“Here, get in, sit down.”

Too weak to struggle or complain, he lets the stranger push him down. Their hands leave his arms, and he hears them rummaging around, before moving to stand behind him.

“What happened to you?”

The hands tilt his head backwards and gently move to tug the hero’s blue mask off his face. Jackie wants to reach up, to stop them, but he was simply too weak. “P- please… no- no ambu-ambulance…”

“You’re that hero, right? Jackieboy Man?”

He groans in reply, “P-please… don’t-”

“Don’t tell anyone? I’ll try my best. But your eyes don’t look too good, man. You’re gonna need a real doctor. Until then, though-” he sighs, gentle fingers softly turning Jackie’s head to inspect the damage. “I have a first aid kit here. I usually only do finger cuts, that sort of thing- I’m just a chef, you see- but I can get this wound clean and disinfected for you. After that- I don’t know if you’re gonna need stitches, or if it’s even possible to stitch someone's eyes-”

The chef just keeps talking, a waterfall of words endlessly rumbling out of his mouth. His hands are warm and soothing, and Jackie feels himself wanting to drift off when suddenly his face explodes with pain again. He winces, moving to sit up, but the chef has one hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady against the chair, while his other delicately dabs at his eyes with a warm wet cloth. “I’m just cleaning this wound for you, I know it hurts but it has to be done. I’m gonna apply an antibiotic ointment next, that’s gonna sting even more. Can you talk to me, Jackie? I can’t have you drifting off to sleep now, okay? I know you lost a lotta blood, which is another thing you’ll need a real doctor for.” 

Jackie just grunts, his hands clenching around the edge of the chair as the chef finishes cleaning the blood off his face, mentally preparing himself for the antibiotic ointment. He wasn’t prepared enough, and can barely manage to bite back a scream as the chef applies the ointment.

“There, all done. Listen, buddy-” he places a bandage over Jackie’s eyes, softly pressing down by the edges. “I know a guy, he’s a surgeon of sorts. He’s called Henrik with a very long last name, something German, but I always just put “Schneep” on his orders. Anyway, I have his phone number, I can call him, see if he’s able to come by, make sure you can use those eyes of your again? How does that sound?”

Jackie sluggishly shakes his head, too weak to speak. 

“I know you’re trying to keep your face a secret, pal, but you really need help from someone more educated on health care than me. I trust this guy, okay? I won’t say a word about what happened tonight, and I can guarantee neither will he. I’ll even bribe him if I have to. The thing is, you need a blood transfusion for sure, I mean, blood was just _gushing_ from your eyes when I found you. What am I gonna say to the cops when they find a dead hero in my kitchen, huh?”

With a sigh, Jackie nods, and the chef steps away to find his phone.

“Good eve, doctor Henrik, sorry to bother you at this time of day, but could you by any chance come by the restaurant? … Yeah, now. Again, ‘m really sorry to bother you, but there’s a lad here who really needs your help. … I can give you free take-out for the rest of the year, alright? … Yeah, thank you. Thank you lots.”

The chef keeps talking to Jackie while they wait for Henrik to arrive, trying his best to keep him conscious. He was just explaining the intricate community of alley-cats that always come by the back door to ask for scraps - one of them had a litter of kittens recently, they’re the cutest bunch - when he is interrupted by the sound of someone pounding on the back door. The chef - his name is Georgie, he’d said - gives Jackie’s hand an encouraging squeeze before rushing away to let the doctor in.

“Ah, what do we have here…” the doctor’s thick German accent is a nice change from Georgie’s constant blabbering. He hears the slap of latex gloves before his head is tilted backwards again, rubbery fingers softly peeling the bandage away to take a look at his eyes. He gasps, albeit softly, but Jackie can hear him swear under his breath. That bad, huh. 

“First things first, let’s get you some blood. Do you know your blood type?” It takes a while before Jackie realised he was being spoken to, and he shook his head.

“Alright, I’ll just set you up with O-neg for now, then.” A loud clanging notifies Jackie of the metallic case being slammed down onto the kitchen counter, and the doctor rummages through it. A band is tightened around his left bicep, and Henrik brushes at the inside of his lower arm with something wet and cold - alcohol. “Hold this up for me,” he orders Georgie. “If you’re squeamish around needles, I advise you to look away now.”

The needle slips in effortlessly, slowly refilling Jackie’s blood volume. The doctor taps his hand to get his attention. “I can give you a sedative if you want. Sleeping will certainly help speed up the healing process.” 

He’s already slipping under, so he just nods. “Th-thank... you,” he whispers. The doctor squeezes his hand. “It’s no problem. It is actually quite nice, finally being able to repay you for all you do for the city.”

Another sting, in his bicep this time, is the last thing he feels before he finally lets go and slips away.


End file.
